Seven Sins and Lustful Love
by OperationBlueSky
Summary: The Doctor and Jack are bored. To pass the time, they practice one of the Seven Deadly Sins every day for a week. PWP ensues later on . Jack/10 oneshot. I do not own anything. COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

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**This is likely to be a 7+ part story, updated once per week. Enjoy! :)

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**Prologue**

"I'm bored."

"We could go save some planet somewhere? There's this nice little place in the Fallablindi region with a failing power supply. Shouldn't take too long. And technically, we have all the time in the universe. We have – well, _yeah_ – we have _the only time_ _machine_ in the _universe_!"

"Aren't we lucky…?!" Jack said, rather derisively.

"Yes we are, Jack. Very lucky indeed."

"I'm still bored, though."

The Doctor sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He was bored, too. He was bored of saving the universe, bored of being the good guy, being the hero. It wasn't that he wanted to be the _villain_ – he just wanted to break the rules for once. Well – more than he usually did. He was feeling rather reckless.

"Jack – let's do something… naughty."

"Naughty, Doctor? ...Do you – do you mean what I think you mean?"

"I think, Jack – _that_ depends upon what you think I mean!"

"I think you mean… sex?"

"What?! No, Jack! …Just… no. _No_." There was a long pause as the Doctor recovered mentally. He hadn't been expecting Jack to come out with _that_. Sighing, he began to explain. "The Seven Deadly Sins, Jack – you know them?"

"Uh – yeah… Lust, gluttony, greed… sloth… laziness – oh, wait, that's 'sloth'…"

"–Wrath, envy and avarice," the Doctor finished, a smile playing on his lips.

"Avarice being… pride, materialism, yeah – but what was your point? …Naughty, you said?"

"Wanna break a few rules, Jack?" If he was going to break the rules – these were the ones. He opened his mouth in a sideways grin, running the tip of his tongue over his teeth.

Jack grinned too, trying to divert his mind from thinking about how suggestive that gesture was. He leaned forward on the Tardis console, eyes twinkling. "Sure."

"Good. One week challenge. Every day for a week, we… _practise_… one of the deadly sins. Starting with 'vanity', I think."

Laughing at the strange but innovative idea, Jack nodded.

"From tomorrow, that is. We'll just have to… I dunno – save that planet in the Fallablindi region today. Ah, well. _Cest la vie. _And _allons-y_!" They grinned at each other, the Doctor setting a dial on the console panel, hammering the Tardis into life.

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**Read on! :)  
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	2. Vanity

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So, this is Chapter 1.  
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**Please R&R, as always! :)**

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**Vanity**

"Ooh, this is going to be difficult," remarked the Doctor, admiring the state of repair that his jacket lapel was in. He'd always liked the tatty way it fitted him. It suited him, he thought.

Jack, grinning, suggested they just go stare in a mirror the whole day.

"_That's_ an idea! We could go to the Parallel Falls! They have those funny little mirror rooms where you can see everything from every angle and you can't find the door. And mirror mazes. I was stuck in one of those for almost two weeks, once. Might be better with company…" he smiled, flipping a few switches and steering the Tardis towards the planet of Landisc 3.

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"_Right_. Now. Just… think vain thoughts. Ummm…" He paused. "Ooh, my bum looks good in this…" Looking up to the sound of Jack laughing, he grinned too. "What?! It _does_…"

"Sure it does, Doctor. I bet mine would, too."

The Doctor looked at him with an expression that showed Jack he had no idea what he meant. Jack just grinned, fixing his hair in the mirrors. It was easier to do when you could see the back, he realised.

"So… what? Do we just stand here all day? 'Cos that wouldn't exactly cure our boredom." The Doctor flattened a crinkle in his sleeve and looked at Jack for an answer.

"What? Don't look at me, this was _your_ idea! I'm not used to being… vain. I look at… I admire… well, _other_ people, not myself. Well, not often, anyway."

The Doctor sighed, tugging at his ear lobe. Hang on – did he always stand sideways when he did that? And how did his hair look when he ran a hand through it like… that. Ah, that looked _terrible_. No wonder people gave him such funny looks when he was panicking. He did that to his hair when he was panicking. Maybe he shouldn't do that. But still, he liked his hair. It was kinda… sexy. Even if he did say so himself.

Jack stuck his hands in his pockets, watching the Doctor hop around, just seeing how much of an idiot he usually looked. Chuckling when he did something that looked _really_ stupid (like wave his hands around in that comical way he always did), he stood back and enjoyed the show.

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"Doctor? Are we lost?" Jack asked, sighing, hands stuffed deep within his pockets.

"What! No! Course not! We just… don't know where we are."

Jack rolled his eyes, leaning back against a mirror, which wobbled a little under his weight. "_You_ don't know where you are, you mean. I know exactly where _I_ am. I'm right _here_."

Sighing, the Doctor leaned beside him, sliding down the mirror and onto the floor, spreading his legs out in front of him. Jack sat down too, rubbing his eyes. They'd been in here for almost six hours, and he was hungry.

"You got any food?"

"Mm – yeah, here…" The Doctor reached inside a pocket, withdrawing a fresh banana from inside. Jack took it and peeled it, taking a bite. It was cool, creamy – sweet. He had not eaten bananas before the Doctor had introduced them to him, just a few years ago. He'd only known him for about a day back then, and he knew nothing about him – he still didn't. The Doctor had a million secrets, a million stories; none that he would never tell.

Grabbing back the banana, the Doctor took a bite, chewing and swallowing. "This way!" He yelled suddenly, dropping the banana, jumping up and running off. Jack followed, trying to figure out which was the real Doctor among the mirror ones. They were all identical, but luckily only one looked lively enough to be the true Doctor. He walked right up to him, handing him back the empty banana skin. The Doctor reached out a hand and pulled open a door – there was the exit! Hidden in a mirror the whole time. They must have passed it fifteen times at least!

"How did you know?"

The Doctor tapped his nose, keeping his mouth closed, smiling. He wasn't going to tell. Jack chuckled, following the Doctor out into a sandy courtyard where the Tardis sat, quiet and lonely.

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The whole time they had been in there, Jack couldn't admire _himself_ in the mirrors. He wasn't the vain type, and he knew that. The Doctor wasn't either – but it was just a bit of fun. But Jack _could_ admire the Doctor. With all those mirrors about, it wasn't exactly difficult. And the Doctor wouldn't have been able to tell where he was looking, as well. He could look anywhere he wanted. _Anywhere_. And at any_thing._

The Doctor was… _gorgeous_. He was just so attractive, in every way. He was clever, respectful, he knew what was doing. He was a pleasure just to be around. Jack couldn't help that his eyes (and mind) weren't drawn to his own virtues.

The Doctor was a better man, in every way. He was the perfect companion, the perfect friend. Jack saw in the Doctor the things he could never achieve. He was more patient, he could listen to people, understand them. He would never use violence – he was a man of peace, and he always won the battle. He was so easy to love, so easy to idolise. For some reason, this thought made him think of a song he'd once heard – Jack smiled, watching the Doctor spinning a car-engine part that was fixed to the Tardis console. The Doctor was practically a walking subject for songs.

Jack loved him, well and truly. He _wanted _him. 'Vanity' was fast disclosing into 'lust'. And he still had a week to wait until he could let _that_ one fly.

He was the perfect companion, the perfect friend – but could he not also be the perfect lover…?

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**Chapter 2 up next week! That's Gluttony! (They are all out of order, by the way. Not that there _is_ an order... but MEH.) :P**


	3. Gluttony

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Here ya go! ^^**

**PLEASE R&R! *begs* :P  
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**Gluttony**

"Ahh – I've eaten too much."

"Well, that was inevitable. That _was _the whole point, you know."

"Yeah, but it's not something I _do_, Jack. It's not… _me_."

"Me neither. But this was _your_ idea, Doctor. Why on earth did you pick the Seven Deadly Sins, of all the things that you could've–? Did you even notice the word 'Deadly' in the title? I thought we steered clear of that."

"_What_? _Me_? Steer clear of 'Deadly'?! You don't know me well enough, Jack!"

Jack sighed, smiling, picking at a buffalo wing. The Doctor licked his fingers, then wiped his hands and face with a napkin. Why _had _he picked the Seven Deadly Sins? A slight slip of the conscious mind, maybe. Or maybe he just wanted to shake things up a little. He didn't know where this was going, but it was already fun. He'd learnt a bit about Jack already, too. He'd never known he liked bananas, for instance. Or buffalo wings. He liked buffalo wings as well. Maybe they had more in common than he thought.

The Doctor waved down a waiter, who topped up his goblet of …was this _fruit juice_? Oh, what the hell. It tasted nice.

Jack groaned, leaning forward on his elbows, one hand around his middle. "Can't… eat… any more. You can't make me... Ughhh."

The Doctor smiled, patting Jack's arm gently. He could smell the marmalade pudding approaching. He'd not smelt marmalade pudding that good since a Mr Clive Staples Lewis had kindly shared – "inspiration for a book" or something. One forgets.

As a large plate was set down between him and Jack, they both grabbed a fork and began shovelling it into their mouths. It was steamy, squishy, and moist – delicious. The Doctor gave a small whine at the tangy, sweet and utterly exquisite taste that exploded in his mouth; Jack did the same, licking residue off his fork, eyes closed in total appreciation.

Mouth full, Jack mumbled, "We are _so_ gonna get fat, doing this."

"Mmph. I never get fat, not in this body," the Doctor replied, chewing at the side of his mouth to talk.

Jack grinned, trying to keep his lips together to stop the pudding falling out. The Doctor smiled back, amused by the image. Swallowing, he reached again for the glass of fruit juice. He drank, setting the glass back down. No matter how nice this pudding was, no matter how fat he wouldn't get – the Doctor just couldn't eat another bite.

The rest of the people at the table (a collection of rather plump Lords and Ladies, presently stuffing their faces) continued to eat in their quaff-like manner, spills of food and drink splattered down their 16th-century-styled silken clothes. Looking at them, Jack felt quite sickened. Nauseous, even. He had to get out of there.

He stood, almost knocking the bench to the floor in his haste. The Doctor nodded to him, rising and stumbling out from behind his own bench. They followed the waiter to the door, who then opened it for them, giving them directions to the exit.

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As soon as they got outside, clear air filling their lungs, Jack spoke. "Let's never go to a banquet again."

"Fine by me. Ugh," the Doctor added, bending over his knees for support.

"Mmm. Nice food though," Jack remarked, taking deep breaths.

"Yeah, but I'm _tired_, now. I don't get tired often." And then, just to emphasise his point, he gave a great yawn, which Jack echoed, just as drowsy.

"Let's go somewhere. It's almost night; I'm sure somewhere will be open now."

"No, not a hotel. Let's go somewhere… less..." he yawned again, unable to finish his sentence.

The Doctor was about to speak, opening his mouth – but instead let out another yawn. He waved his hand in front of his face, trying to get more air.

"Doctor? Let's… just…" he pointed to a pile of hay on the back of a horse-cart. God, that looked comfy.

"O-okay. It'll have..." – he yawned – "…moved by the morning; I know how these things work."

"Don't… care. Just… wanna… _sleep_." Jack was struggling to keep his eyes open now, stumbling over the cobblestones to the cart. He clambered in, kneeling to remove his greatcoat, then lying down and covering himself with it like a blanket. The hay was fresh, spiking Jack against his arms and face, but he was too tired to complain. He felt the cart rock a little as the Doctor lay down beside him, taking his own coat off and wrapping it around himself. They lay together, Jack asleep as soon as he'd smiled at the Doctor. Watching Jack lose consciousness so quickly made the Doctor smile even more, and he reached out to stroke his hair. He was like a faithful dog, so utterly adorable. Yet… he didn't feel that way about him – he _loved _him – but not in a "man's best friend" way. He felt more than that. It felt odd to be thinking about it. He'd never thought about it before.

Rescuing all those planets, all the people; being together in times of great need – it brought them together, and the Doctor had never had a friend as close as Jack was. But just doing this, just messing around – the _Seven Deadly Sins_, for God's sake – he felt closer than ever. And… he wanted to be closer.

Perhaps… literally.

The Doctor shuffled towards Jack, dropping his hand from his hair. His hair was so _soft_, so warm. He pressed their bodies together, pulling hay behind him for support. He let his eyes drift over Jack's features, brushing his fingers over the stubble that shadowed his jaw line. He was so _beautiful_. The word didn't seem enough, and it never would be.

His mind lingered on Jack's face, even after his eyes closed. He would always remember that picture. He could never forget.

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**And here's a nice little reminder, in case you forgot: R&R!!!**

**Next up: Avarice! :)  
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	4. Avarice

**So, this is the next chapter. They are gradually getting longer. :)**

**I think this one is a little off-topic, but it is _technically _to the point. If that makes sense. :P  
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**Avarice**

"Doctor?"

"Mmph."

"Hey, Doctor," Jack repeated, poking the Doctor in the ribs.

"Mmn. Shh, Jack. Sleeping."

"Doctor, you're on my arm."

"Wha?"

"Arm. Trapped. Under. You."

"Agh!" the Doctor cried, wriggling out from Jack's embrace. The cart was bouncing beneath them, a scruffy farmer steering a horse up front. Had they slept like that _all_ night?

When he'd woken, Jack had found the Doctor lying in his arms, their fingers interlocked. His greatcoat covered the both of them, the Doctor's coat crumpled and discarded on the other side of the cart. Jack had had a quick discussion with the farmer, who offered to take them (for free) to the next town along with his hay, if they so wished – all while still clinging onto the Doctor, who was murmuring in his sleep.

And now the Doctor had woken too, and was slightly out-of-sorts with being found like this, _um_-ing and _ah_-ing without completing a sentence. Jack smiled at the scene he saw before him – he had never really seen the Doctor embarrassed before. His cheeks were flushed with a soft pink glow, his eyes wide and seemingly innocent. Jack just shook his head in dismissal, keeping quiet so the Doctor could calm down.

After a few minutes, the Doctor was fully awake, less jittery, and a little more articulate. He asked Jack politely, in an almost over-controlled voice, "Where are we going?"

"Tom here said the next town," Jack answered, waving an arm in the farmer's direction. The Doctor nodded, pulling his knees up. "I'm just kinda hoping it was the town we left the Tardis in."

"You didn't check?"

"I didn't think there'd be much around here. It's kinda… bleak," Jack said, staring out at the landscape. Scattered leafy trees broke the horizontal line that made up the horizon; short hedges and brown fences separated one green field from another.

"Nah – it's more… quaint."

"Mm," Jack said, leaning back against the wooden frame of the cart. "It needs more life."

"Like… more people? There are plenty of those in the towns," the Doctor pointed out, smiling a little.

"No, even the people – they're all a bit…" he sighed, thinking of the words.

"Dull?"

"Sorta. Like they have nothing to do. Nothing to live for. I'd hate a life like that."

"Be glad you've got me, then," grinned the Doctor.

"Oh, I am. I really am."

"Glad to hear it. I'm –" …he stopped, not sure how Jack would take this. Although, it wasn't exactly _controversial_. He might as well. "I'm glad I have you too, Jack. Really, really, _truly_ glad." He smiled. Jack smiled back, uncertain how to add to that. He wanted this conversation to go on; he wanted to tell the Doctor just _how_ _much_ he appreciated him, how much he meant to him. But – well, it just wouldn't work. Not without saying something _entirely_ stupid, and probably inappropriate. He kept his mouth shut.

The Doctor stared back at Jack, willing him to open his mouth and say something. Anything, even. Even something entirely stupid; most likely inappropriate. He just liked the sound of Jack's voice, having someone to talk to. A companion. And Jack was different to the girls. He looked at him differently. He wasn't sure how that worked, precisely, but he liked it better. He connected with it more. Love coming from the Rose, from Martha – it was always… clingy. They wouldn't let go. But Jack – he could move on – he _would_ move on. Perhaps slowly, but he would. But, then again – Jack was immortal. He could stay forever, if he wanted. There was nothing that the Doctor wanted more, right now. Actually, he _could_ think of a few things, but they were all under the same subject line. The Doctor smiled, lost in his (rather dirty) thoughts.

And then the Doctor sighed, realising Jack wasn't going to say anything. Jack sniffed the stuffy morning air, clearing his throat and looking up at the blue sky.

A sudden thought struck Jack – "Today is 'avarice' day, right?"

"Uh – yeahh," the Doctor said, swallowing. He _really_ wasn't in the mood. This wasn't going to work, this whole 'theme' thing. Especially not 'avarice'. Greed. Materialism. Like that was his thing – like he'd _ever_ be able to do that. He felt rather cynical today. Then again, to think of another synonym – to covet, to be covetous… to _desire_. He could desire, today. And he knew what he wanted. It was sitting in front of him, waving hay around with its teeth, asking him a question.

"Sorry, what?" the Doctor asked, tuning back in. Jack grinned at him.

"Do you want to skip today? You don't look all that up to it –"

"No, no – I'm fine!" the Doctor interrupted, wriggling about a bit. It was true, he wasn't up to it at all; his mind was on other things. Namely, that cute way Jack flicked hay around with his lips. Ah, the things those lips could do – the things they have _already done_, the Doctor corrected himself. Well, to other people. Not to him. _Yet_…

He found himself staring. He blushed, embarrassed – it was an odd and slightly disturbing feeling, and not one he was entirely familiar with. He gasped quietly at the sudden thoughts that crossed his mind, looking away again. His eyes had strayed back to Jack, somehow. And _somehow_, Jack had inspired a split-second fantasy within the Doctor's mind – he couldn't help but… well, _react_. The Doctor squirmed in the hay, trying to hide his 'reaction'. His body was unusually responsive to his thoughts today.

Jack was unbuttoning his shirt, warming up in the sunshine. The Doctor held back a growl, trying not to pounce – he wanted to kiss that pretty smile off Jack's handsome face. It was starting to irritate him.

He allowed his mind to wander – his hands and lips wandering over Jack's body, breathing in his scent, his tongue doing some oh _so_ naughty things – NO! He had to control his thoughts; his reactions were going overboard. He could already feel himself throbbing beneath his tight trousers, desperate for contact. The rattling of the cart wasn't helping either. His legs were rubbing –

"Uoohh…" the Doctor moaned, biting down hard on his lip.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor gasped, eyes flicking open and staring hard at Jack.

"You ok? You look a bit… flushed."

"I-I… I'm okay. Just…" _What_? What could he say?! "Uh – just feeling a bit cart-sick."

There was a seconds' pause, then Jack said, "Oh, come on, Doctor – you survive the Tardis every time! It's the bumpiest ride ever!"

"Mm. But this is different," the Doctor persisted, sticking to his story. It's not like he was going to _tell_ Jack. That would just be stupid. Sure, he wanted Jack, he wanted to do all that… _stuff_… to him – but telling him about it; that was a dirty thought in itself. And somehow, not a good kind.

"Different _how_, exactly?" Jack asked, cocking an eyebrow. He looked extremely amused, his unbuttoned shirt jumping with the cart.

"It just is – oh, hey, _look_!" the Doctor cried, pointing happily at the Tardis, parked neatly in the corner of a field. They were close to a town now, and luckily it was the right one. The Tardis looked so lonely. The Doctor had missed her, Jack decided.

Shouting thanks to Tom, the driver, Jack hopped off the moving cart, dragging a few hay stalks with him. The Doctor followed, landing awkwardly to hide his erection from Jack. He didn't see. It was fading anyway. The Doctor was glad. That would have been difficult to explain.

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"_Here_ she is!" the Doctor grinned, throwing his arms wide, as if greeting. He rushed to the console, stroking a metal bar, running his hands over various levers and controls. Oddly, Jack was getting a little hot under the collar, seeing the Doctor touch something so tenderly, in what his mind interpreted as a somewhat… sexually suggestive manner. But it wasn't seeing him with the Tardis – no – _EW_. That would be gross. But it was the thought that the Doctor's hands might one day touch _him_ like that… ooh, now _that_ was a nice thought. Some day soon.

Jack smiled, suddenly eager to go new places. Perhaps he meant that literally – the Doctor was already setting the console for some new planet in the universe – but he could have meant it… the _other_ way.

He bit his lip, lost in thought. The Tardis rumbled beneath his feet, shaking him and the Doctor to the floor. Whooping with laughter, the Doctor ran towards the doors, dragging Jack with him by the still-loose shirt. He'd do it up later. Right now they had some exploring to do.

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**So there you have it - Avarice. Well, kinda. Oh, well.**

**Next up: Envy! :)  
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	5. Envy

**Chapter 4! Yay! ...This was kinda rushed, cos I never got round to it, but hopefully next week's Sloth will be much better formulated! :)

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**Envy**

"I… envy… _that guy_."

"Why? He's totally ugly."

"He isn't! But, look! He has a nice house."

"Doctor, we're at the high end of town. Everyone has posh houses. I mean, in this time, you either have a nice house or no house at all! And… Doctor…"

"What?"

"You don't envy him, come _on_!"

"I _do_! I _said_ I did!"

"Doctor! You have a _TARDIS_, for God's sake! Why would you want a posh house in the _Roman_ times? I mean, you have the whole universe!"

"…I just – oh I dunno…" the Doctor mumbled, shrugging.

"Now, _that_ guy –" Jack pointed out a handsome young man in a toga, laughing impatiently with a handful of attractive young women. He looked about twenty, quite rich, judging by his clothes – and rather fed up, as if he was in the wrong company, and not enjoying one single second of it.

The man flinched as a slim blonde woman placed her hand flirtatiously on his thigh, leaning in to whisper in his ear. He turned his face away from hers, frowning. The Doctor didn't even notice as the man caught Jack's eye for a fraction of a second – someone could have written a novel on how much that look had communicated between them.

"Why would you envy _him_? He doesn't exactly look happy," the Doctor commented.

"Okay, _fine_. Not envy. I've skipped them all and gone straight to 'lust'."

"Jack!"

"Oh come on – he's _totally_ gay! Don't tell me that you couldn't tell."

The Doctor shot him a disapproving look, then twisted his head away, glaring back at the (quite frankly, gorgeous) young man.

He could tell. He couldn't blame Jack for wanting him. If Jack hadn't already been already after him, he might have gone for him himself. Except… well, he'd never let Jack know that. If Jack was around, he had no chance.

And if Jack was such an expert on picking out men who were interested in him, how could he miss _this_ one, standing _right here_?! Maybe it was one of those things – if it's right in front of you, you can't see it. But the Doctor _desperately_ wanted Jack to know. He'd tried to make it as obvious as he could – it just didn't seem to be working. Just three more days. He was waiting for the right moment – perhaps 'lust' day – and then he could make the whole thing blindingly obvious. Well, he hoped.

Snapping the Doctor back to their conversation, Jack said, "Look, Doctor, it's fine. I won't be long. Just – stay there and… envy people." Jack climbed over the low balcony, sauntering over to the man, who looked up, smiling gratefully. Oh, but that was lust in his eyes, too, the Doctor could see it. Quickly, skilfully and efficiency rescuing the man, Jack took him by the hand and pulled him into a small nearby storage building, shutting the door behind them.

That was envy, right there. The Doctor hadn't expected it to be green. But, surprisingly, it was. Bright, acid green, bubbling away inside of him. And there was the pinkish-orange curiosity – what, pray, were they _doing_ in there? Undoubtedly, something _exceedingly_ intimate…

He waited a few minutes. Then a few more. Perhaps they were just talking. Perhaps they were hiding from those giggling women. Perhaps they were … – No; wishful thinking was no longer a match for the Doctor's curiosity. Hopping over the balcony and walking to the door that Jack and the man had entered, he pulled out his stethoscope and placed it to the door. Immediately, his ears filled with sounds of muffled moaning, groaning, panting. He heard a resounding crash as something metal fell to the floor – a grunt, then a thud, as if a body was thrown against a wall. A rhythm of grunts quickly built up, a body pounding against the inside wall of the building. A cry of utter pleasure seemed to slam into the Doctor's eardrums, followed by another, then a groan, and _still_ more grunts; fingernails scrabbled at the wall, a scritching noise tickling right at the edge of the Doctor's hearing range. There came a loud sigh, another cry, and then all was silent. The Doctor pressed the ear pieces deeper within his ears, hoping that would pick up the silence better. But all that he could hear was the quiet – the lack of more grunts, more groans – no more of the sounds that inspired such jealousy.

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Then the door burst open and out fell the young man, walking backwards, smiling back inside. His fair hair was messy, his toga only hanging on to one shoulder. Turning, he bumped straight into the Doctor, who hurriedly stuffed the stethoscope into his pocket. Nodding embarrassedly to him, the young man passed the Doctor wordlessly, and went on his way, looking away from the group of girls as he passed them. They giggled, whispering to each other behind their hands. Then they got up, chasing the poor man down the street. The Doctor couldn't help but smile at that. He didn't look like he'd escape them for a while.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor jumped. "Jack!"

Jack emerged from the small storage room, still tucking his shirt into his trousers. His greatcoat hung over one arm, his hair messed up and out of place. Smiling, the Doctor tugged at his ear, feeling awkward. "Uh… having fun, Jack?"

"Hell yeah." Jack said, his eyes shooting the Doctor such a steamy look that the Doctor swore he could feel his knees melting. Embarrassed and lost for words now, the Doctor turned away, shoving his hands into his pockets. He started walking towards the Tardis, feeling they had to leave _now_. Like, _now_ now. Before Jack hooked up with someone else.

Jack was getting too distracted with this 'Seven Sins' thing. Not good. But at least he followed him back to the Tardis. The Doctor had half expected him to turn and go after the young man. Obviously their relationship was short-lived and meant nothing. He didn't want that from Jack. He didn't want spontaneous. He wanted Jack to be with him and then _stay_ with him. He wasn't sure how Jack would survive that, being so relentlessly promiscuous, but the Doctor hoped they could cross that bridge when they came to it.

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It was 'sloth' day tomorrow. On lazy days the Doctor spent the day in the Tardis. If they didn't leave, Jack couldn't pick up some other random guy from the Stone Age, or whatever. Or _where_ver. Or… you know, _when_ever.

They could watch a few films, read a few books, maybe. And the Doctor had a pretty good idea what to read and watch. Tomorrow was Big Hint Day.

This ought to be _fun_.

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**Soooo... Sloth up next week! :)**

**Please, please, PLEASE review! (please?)**

**Update: Cannot update next week. Come back the week after next! (Week beginning 6th April) :P**

**Sorry, and thanks. :)  
**


	6. Sloth

**Sorry about the wait... stupidly, I didn't take the fact that this was Easter weekend into account. Easter weekend = Fanfiction complications. :P  
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**So, here (finally) is Sloth. Enjoy!**

**R&R, PEOPLE! ;)  
**

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**Sloth**

The Doctor had his hand down his trousers. He was alone. It was quite dark. He had a book with him. It was a good book. Well, _he_ liked it… and he was pretty sure Jack would like it, if he could read it. It was certainly his style. But he _couldn't_ read it, for two specific reasons – firstly, the book was written in Gallifreyan. The Tardis refused to translate Gallifreyan, and there was a good explanation for that – it meant only the Doctor could read the extensive amount of porn that was embedded in the ship. The Doctor was rather impressed with his collection. It wasn't that he ever really read it (or watched it, for that matter), but it was just nice to know he really did have _everything_ on his ship. Come on, he even had a fibreglass Christmas tree. It wasn't a greedy quality – he had proved he didn't have many of those – but he'd always felt he'd need the stuff one day. Turns out he was right. He desperately needed this book right now. It was a good book.

The second reason why Jack couldn't read it was simply that Jack was not there. He was far away, doing something else. Well, probably. The Doctor hadn't bothered to check where Jack was before he'd snuggled up with his book in a comfy armchair. That wasn't a good move, he realised, just a moment after Jack walked in on him.

"GAH!"

There was an awkward silence. Neither man was sure who had yelled. Perhaps they both had – they were both just as embarrassed. The position the Doctor was in probably wasn't his most flattering. He tried to hide the book, to pull his hand from his underwear, to look away – all he ended up doing was flinching. Jack jumped in sudden response, eyes wide. Where was he supposed to look? Should he leave? Did the Doctor want him to join him? Jack fancied he looked rather hopeful. He watched the Doctor lick his lips, nervous.

Then Jack forced himself to look away, giving the Doctor a few seconds to recover what was left of his dignity. He wriggled awkwardly on the sofa, moving his leg to make his erection less noticeable.

They could hardly see each other in the gloom, the only light wall-mounted and glowing by the door. The room was just a few metres wide, quite tinny; shelves and shelves of tapes and DVDs and other futuristic and alien storage devices lining the front wall. The main feature of the room was a large silver screen, a projector stuck to the ceiling. This was obviously meant as a viewing room for films, et cetera.

Jack cleared his throat; the black curtains on the other three walls absorbing the sound. He pretended to admire the fabric, picking at a knot in the threads. He could still leave. He could get out, and save them the embarrassment of this odd little situation. But he rather liked it. He had never thought of the Doctor as a person who liked doing… _that_. And now he wanted to talk to him. This had just opened up a whole new side of the Doctor's personality, and Jack was curious. How often did he come here? What was that book he was reading? It must have been a good book. The Doctor had been making enough noise – the noise was the only reason Jack had come in here. But he hadn't expected to bump into the Doctor. A little grunting, whimpering animal, perhaps. But not the Doctor, hand down his trousers, book in his hand, mouth open, lips wet… oh, Jack could go into great detail. That image was imprinted in his mind forever.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Jack?" the Doctor replied, rather crisply.

"Um… what book you reading?"

The Doctor hadn't expected that one. Maybe, 'When did you last get any?', but not 'What book are you reading?'… It was hardly Jack's first choice of question, the Doctor figured, but hey – when did Jack ever do what one expected?

"Uh – it… it's a … well... It's written in Gallifreyan. You can't read it."

"Can I see?"

Without speaking, the Doctor picked up the book from the armrest, passing it to Jack. Jack opened it at a random page, examining the contents. The Doctor was right. He couldn't read it. But he'd seen the cover, and that was enough. The Doctor obviously hadn't realised as he'd handed it over – the front of the book was embellished with a 3-dimensional image of two men. And they weren't just standing there, either. The position they were in was enough to make anyone hot under the collar.

"Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

"This is… really quite educational, but not something I'd thought you'd _like_… I must have the wrong idea about you, Doctor."

"W… w… what?"

"Front cover, Doctor," Jack said, waving it at him.

There was a pause, in which the Doctor felt his blood rush to his face… and thankfully away from somewhere _else_…

"Ohh… god…" the Doctor said under his breath. This wasn't how he hoped Jack would find out. Reading gay porn. Whee.

Jack grinned, bouncing onto the sofa, chucking the book back to the Doctor.

"So, what we watching?" Jack asked, spreading his arms out over the backrest, behind the Doctor.

"Uhh… uh…" the Doctor said, blinking. He hadn't… _quite_ recovered… Standing up now was not the best option. "You go pick something," he suggested.

"Sure," Jack said, getting up and wandering over to the front wall. The films were stacked according to genre, minute little labels beneath each section. Perhaps because it was noticeable, or perhaps just because he was Jack – the first thing Jack saw was the label that (in apparent English) read "PR0N". He shook his head, marvelling at the Doctor's lame attempt at secrecy. He spun the section round – it rolled towards him, still attached to the sides of the wall. Oh – another secondary label leapt out at him … "GPR0N". Jack rolled his eyes. This was not G-rated 'Pr0n', by any means – this was Gay Pr0n. Gay porn. Like man-on-man… _stuff_. Damn sexy stuff, too. Well, most likely. They had to watch it to be sure. Jack picked one at random, shuffling it out of its place between the others. He took it back to the Doctor, who sat waiting on the sofa. The Doctor looked uncomfortable, like he knew _exactly_ which part of the wall Jack had chosen his film from. He took it, looked at the cover, and looked back up at Jack, his eyes wide with apprehension and …it had to be said, _insatiable lust_.

Jack swallowed. He took a step back – this wasn't his Doctor. His Doctor was clean, innocent – uncomfortable in the presence of lust, love, and anything in between. His Doctor wasn't one to seek out new sexual pleasures, just _because it felt good_. The Doctor was him. Perhaps he'd been there all along – perhaps he'd _always_ had an interest in men.

Jack tried to shrug it off – so many thoughts had spurred his mind in that short second, and the Doctor was still staring at him, eyes wide. But… no, he must have been mistaken. Trick of the light, perhaps. The lust that Jack had seen in the Doctor's eyes just a moment ago had gone. Floated away, vanished. Was it ever really there? Jack figured he must have been expecting too much. _Of course_ the Doctor was embarrassed. That's all he could see now; total, complete and utter embarrassment. There were even tears collecting in the Doctor's eyes.

"Doctor…?" Jack said, softly.

The Doctor shook his head, closing his eyes for a second. It wasn't real. It wasn't _real_. Jack _couldn't_ have found that. But then he looked again, and there was Jack, picking up the film from the floor.

"Doctor? Doctor, look, it's okay. Honest. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I … I like guys too, you know that…" he grinned, stuck for words. What kind of support did the Doctor need right now? What was he even upset about? That Jack had found his porn? That wasn't a big deal, not to Jack. That Jack had found out the Doctor wasn't entirely straight? Perhaps.

As if it was the answer to all of this, Jack pulled the Doctor into a reassuring hug, arms wrapped around his waist. The Doctor slipped his arms over Jack's shoulders, hugging him back. The Doctor could feel Jack's hot breath on his neck; his palms open on his lower back. He wished they could stay like this all day, to laze around in each other's company. They had a good excuse, anyway. Today was 'Sloth' day, and they _could_ do this all day.

Suddenly Jack hands slipped a little, and the Doctor's breath caught. Their bodies were instantly tensed against each other, neither sure what to do.

"Mmph, sorry," Jack mumbled into the Doctor's shoulder, his hands returning to the Doctor's back. The Doctor squeaked in response. He had _liked_ that. His mind spoke to Jack, hoping he would hear – _do it again, do it again, do it again_. _Please_.

It didn't work like that, of course. He'd have to do something else. _Make_ it happen.

Pulling away a tiny bit, the Doctor grabbed Jack's hand at his back, gently tugging it back to his buttocks, letting it rest there. Jack stood awkwardly, a mask of confusion on his face. What did the Doctor want him to do? Jack could feel the shape of the Doctor's body, the heat that was flowing from it – the desperateness inside himself that was driving him to do… _something_.

The Doctor pushed his nose into Jack's neck, his mouth open, twitching between a drowsy smile and a desperate, wanting, panting mouth. A vaguely animalistic sound escaped him, making Jack grin and hold the Doctor closer. Then he broke off the hug, stepping away, laughing.

"Are we watching this thing, then?" Jack asked – but he had clearly misread what the Doctor had been trying to tell him. He _wanted_ him. In a _sexual_ way. _Now_.

"Sure," the Doctor said, deadpan. He glared at Jack's turned back, as he watched him stuff the thin disc into the technology that played it. Slumping onto the sofa, he decided to sulk.

* * *

Twenty minutes into the film, the Doctor was still sulking. Jack sat slouched beside him, his trousers dropped to the floor. The Doctor glared at the carpet, no interest in anything else. But he let his mind wander from it. He'd studied it for long enough now that he could identify every fibre in the blasted thing. He let in the sounds of the film – the cheesy dialogue, uncalled-for sexual advances; the passionate, heart-felt, lusty moans. The Doctor rolled his eyes. So, _so_ stupid. But then there were the sounds Jack was making – quiet, shaky breaths; the shuffle of his shirt as his arm moved up and down, up and down…

The Doctor licked his lips, honing his mind on Jack. He didn't look round, but let his eyes un-focus from the carpet, his mind creating a visual.

Less than ten minutes of this, and the Doctor could identify exactly which parts of the film Jack enjoyed the most. And the Doctor himself was hard, straining against his trousers. He'd had enough of sulking now. He wanted to make his own uncalled-for sexual advance. He just needed to summon up the courage to do it!

He would do it without telling himself when he was going to. It _was_ possible, despite what most of him thought. He waited ten seconds. Ten more. Then fifteen more. He had to do it _now_, before this throbbing in his trousers became unbearable.

And then time seemed to stop, as the Doctor bit his lip, closed his eyes, and turned around. He straddled Jack, pressed their lips together, both of them open-mouthed. Jack groaned straight away, turning his head to the side to kiss back. Their tongues fought, the Doctor gasping with pent-up passion and sexual fury – the film continued in the background, unobserved. Jack's hand was still moving. Up and down, up and down. Faster, faster. The Doctor could feel him shaking beneath their lips. Jack was so close now, so _very_ close. He gasped one last time, grabbing the Doctor's hand that clutched his face. The Doctor was in a total daze, out of breath and in a state of complete oblivion. He felt hot come spill over him, on his shirt and trousers, on his stomach, exposed by his loose shirt. He couldn't tell whose come it was. And then he saw Jack's face, eyes burning with a dark lust, the aftermath of their little adventure. The Doctor swallowed, eyes swimming slowly into focus. He frowned.

"What… wh…?" he whispered, fast losing consciousness. "Jack –" he whispered, the dim light fading to black.

Lazy day was over.

* * *

**So, that was Sloth. R&R. Please. Thank you. :)**

**Next Chapter: Wrath! Up soon! But not sure when. This is when you add the story to 'Story Alert'.**

**(When the author is incapable of time management.) :P**


	7. Wrath

**I am SO SORRY that this is SO LATE.**

**But it's up now, so that's okay. :)**

**Please R&R!**

* * *

"Doctor?"

The Doctor didn't respond. He couldn't. His mind was absent, in another place. Another time. He'd been pulled there by someone. Some_thing_. And its intentions were… questionable.

"Doctor, say something!" Jack said, kneeling over the Doctor's limp body. He stroked his face, brushing hair out of his eyes.

This wasn't going to work. He had to get help. Jack took hold of the Doctor from beneath his knees and the middle of his back, and carried him out of the room. He held him up through various corridors, not once losing his grip or stumbling. And not once did the Doctor move. He was still breathing, though. His two hearts were still beating. He was still alive.

Into the console room, up the metal stairs, to the captain's chair. Jack laid the Doctor across the seats, his loose shirt flopping over the side. There was still come on his pale skin, Jack noticed. He wiped it off, crouching down to wait for something to happen, for something to change.

He wasn't sure what he and the Doctor had actually done; just a few short minutes ago. Jack had been… well, masturbating, he knew that. And the Doctor had been sulking. He knew that too. But then the world had seemed to pause itself, because all of a sudden the Doctor was kissing him, and he was kissing back. Actual _kissing_. Not a small little peck on the cheek, but full-out, tongue-in-cheek (literally), hot, panting, animalistic _kissing_. Oh, it had been… incredible. The sensations were still tingling through Jack's body. He smiled.

But _then_ what happened? Two things Jack knew at this point: Jack had come; hard, fast… he ran out of words to describe it, without slipping into an indecipherable language that consisted mostly of groaning and screaming. _Orgasmic_, he decided.

Secondly, the Doctor had fainted. Why? He didn't know. It had just… happened. It hadn't been _his_ fault… had it? Maybe the Doctor was allergic to Jack's come, or something. He didn't know, he was just supposing. That would suck if that were true…

The Doctor still hadn't moved. He'd been out almost ten minutes now. That wasn't good. He wasn't sleeping; Jack had checked. But he had to do something, now. Because he'd been gone too long. This wasn't right.

Jack went over to the console panel. He didn't know how to use the thing. What was he meant to do? How did it work? When he'd watched the Doctor steering the Tardis, it had always seemed a matter of chance as to where they ended up. There were a few obvious settings – there was the thingy that changed the year within a century, and another that picked a place within a galaxy, and a few other controls too… but Jack had no knowledge of where he could find help for the Doctor. He needed medical help, perhaps. Even… _scientific_ help?

The memory setting. There was a memory setting somewhere here! A few days ago they had landed at a research facility, run by what had seemed like disembodied voices. Nothing had really been happening, so Jack and the Doctor had left, looking for something a little more interesting. That was when the Doctor had suggested the Seven Sins thing, just to give them something to do.

It occurred to Jack… the research facility and the change in the Doctor's behaviour… could they be connected?

Perhaps.

Jack pressed a button, twirled a random dial, begging the machine before him to take them to the right place. He had no idea what he'd just told it to do. For all he knew, he'd just given the command to kill them both. He closed his eyes and hoped, taking the Doctor in his arms and holding on for dear life as the machine began to roar, the floor trembling, lights flashing. The panel screamed, the grates on the beneath them rumbling with violent movements. Jack was thrown down, cradling the Doctor. They were going to die, he knew it. Both of them, forever this time. He couldn't come back after this. The Doctor wouldn't be able to regenerate. He could feel them falling, through time, through space. Soon the whole universe would be far behind them. No… they were going too far. They had to stop! He reached up and thumped whatever was closest. A small round silver ball, with red swirly things on it. He just trusted it was right.

The floor stopped shaking. The lights brightened again. The Tardis ceased her alien moaning. They had stopped. And they were still alive. Jack let out a sigh of relief, and he realised he'd been holding it since he'd pressed the first button. But… where were they? Were they in the right place?

Leaving the unconscious Doctor on the floor, Jack got up and ran to the door. Half expecting the universe to implode, he opened it slowly. Bright white light shone in from outside, almost blinding him. But then he got used to it, and he saw… oh, wow. It was right. He'd got it right! He grinned, jubilant.

Running back to the Doctor, he grabbed him and hauled him to the door. He dragged him onto the marble outside, shutting the door of the Tardis behind them.

"Come on, Doctor," Jack whispered, pulling the Doctor to a wooden bench in the middle of the room. They were in an observation room, pure white. One-sided glass lined the top half of all four walls, faint reflections stretching into eternity on all sides. It was quite daunting, and made one quite claustrophobic. Jack was arranging the Doctor in what looked like a comfortable position, leaning against his shoulder, when there came one of the mysterious voices, echoing through their chamber.

"_Ahh, Doctor. I've been waiting for you._"

"W…What?" Jack asked, holding the Doctor's limp hand. He still hadn't moved.

"_I have waited so long, so tirelessly. I am glad you returned._"

"Oh, yeah – about that," Jack said, talking to the voice. "The Doctor's sick, he needs help. I'm not sure what happened."

"_He is not sick. We brought you here, but we needed his mind to bring him. We have his mind. And now we return it._"

The Doctor jerked awake, his hand jumping from within Jack's. He gasped for breath, disoriented.

"Doctor!" Jack said, resisting the urge to hug the man.

The Doctor turned to Jack, a small half-smile on his face. "Heya, Jack."

Rather irritated, Jack realised something. "So… if you brought us here… I _didn't_ fly the Tardis?"

"_No,_" the voice said, sounding amused.

Jack felt like sulking now. That had been his Big Achievement, and it turns out it wasn't him at all.

"But… why did you bring us here?" Jack asked the voice, despite himself. He was still curious, and the Doctor was being oddly quiet. They were locked in a room with no doors – normally, the Doctor would be jumping around, looking for an exit, asking questions… he wasn't today. Something had changed. And Jack was determined to find out what and why.

"_It was an experiment. We research relationships, romantic and otherwise. We realised you two were perfect specimens._"

"Uh…" Jack said, blinking. What had they done to them?! "Doctor… what – what does it mean?"

"It means they implanted me with something, somehow, and it made me change my feelings for you. It made me…" he swallowed. He didn't want to say this. "It made we _want_ you."

Jack shook his head in disbelief. How could they do that? It was… inhuman. Mind you, he didn't have any objections, not really. He just wished he'd been aware of the Doctor's feelings. They could have had so much, within this past week, since their last visit here.

Just to check, he asked the voice. "Is this true?"

"_No._"

"Oh," Jack and the Doctor said at once.

"_All we did was implant you with the idea of the Seven Deadly Sins. It was just a small experiment, just to see how you react. We did nothing to your relationship. You did that yourself._"

The Doctor laughed, deadpan. He stood. "Oh, no, you don't get away with that one. You changed something. I don't know what, and I don't know how, since we never saw you. But you changed _something_. My… _feelings_… for Jack – they're different, they're not like how they used to be. We were friends before, and that's all I ever wanted, but now… Now…" he said, pacing the room. He turned to look at Jack, his eyes soft. "Now…" he whispered, his feet stopping. Jack stared back at him, sitting awkwardly on the wooden seat.

"_We changed nothing,_" the voice insisted.

The Doctor stared at a wall, silent. Perhaps he'd been mistaken. Perhaps they just –

"_You built on feelings that were already there, love that was already present. Doctor, your 'friend' feels the same way about you. You love each other,_" it declared, sounding triumphant.

The Doctor chuckled. "Yeah, sure we do. But it's platonic love, isn't it, Jack?"

Jack didn't know how to respond. He stood up, walking to stand beside the Doctor. "…Sure," he said. He only realised after how unconvincing he sounded.

"Jack?" the Doctor asked, eyes wide. "Jack, it's just cos of this experiment, right? You don't… you don't _love_ me… do you?"

Jack's mouth dropped open, lost for words. This voice was just messing everything up. Supposedly, all it had done was tell the Doctor to act out the Seven Deadly Sins. And in the process, the Doctor had fallen in love. _Apparently_. But this thing, this voice… it knew how Jack already felt. It knew that he loved the Doctor. And that scared him. He didn't ever want the Doctor to find out. But now… he'd paused too long. The Doctor knew.

"_You see, Doctor. I speak the truth._"

"But… no, we can't! We're just friends! _Friends_!"

"_That means nothing in the way of love, Doctor. Your 'friend' Jack could tell you that._"

The Doctor paused. He was battling his own feelings, inside. This wasn't love that he felt. It couldn't be. The voice _had_ done something, he knew it. But… at this present moment in time – he resolved his thoughts… this wasn't love, this was lust. Pure, burning, like a red roaring flame, smoke pouring from every side. But what he'd realised from Jack, what he had and hadn't said – Jack was _in love_. With him. Pure and burning, too. But bright white, its light reaching out to the Doctor.

Damn this blasted voice.

The Doctor wanted to forget all of this; forget all the love, the lust, the complicated feelings that he didn't really understand. All he wanted to do was yell, scream, throw things. He wanted to get angry. And if the voice had changed something – this part, it had even _admitted_ – it had picked a hell of a day to summon the Doctor. _Wrath_.

"You had no right to change what happened," the Doctor stated. The voice seemed to recoil, silently, invisibly. But its discomfort was obvious. Jack side-stepped, away from the Doctor. He scared him when he got like this. He sounded so dangerous. The Doctor turned back to Jack, and spoke his mind. "And so, I'm changing it back. Jack, let's forget what happened here, what's happened this past week. Go back to how we were, just friends. Whatever this _monster_ has changed, we know it was a lie. I don't want you, I never have. You don't love me, and it wasn't your fault that you thought you did."

And then he turned back to the voice, wherever it came from. "We are leaving now, and you won't stop us. And if you do… well, God save you."

Jack swallowed. He wasn't sure what to think. He followed the Doctor back into the Tardis, closing the door behind him. He watched the Doctor's eyes as they glared at the console, flicking levers and pressing buttons. Sure, the voice was wrong, it didn't have a right to implant ideas into the Doctor's mind… but it had claimed the feelings that developed were not its doing. Maybe it was telling the truth. After all, Jack loved the Doctor even before last week.

* * *

The Doctor needed time to think, that was pretty obvious. He wasn't sure if the Seven Sins thing was still on. He'd have to check with Jack. Because there was only one day left, and that 'lust'.

He smiled, as he thought of the phrase "saving the best till last".

He'd been waiting for this day. He wanted Jack, and he knew it. The voice had been right, this wasn't its doing. The Doctor developed these feelings all on his own. And with every passing second, his need for Jack heightened.

And with every passing second, the Tardis neared their next destination. This was going to be ... oh, _so_ good.

* * *

**Ha. So, next time: LUST! (I can't say 'week', cos I'm not sure if it will be... ugh, I hate my brain...)**

**Oh, small reminder: R&R! R&R! R&R! R&R R&R R&R R & R ... :P (in other words, REVIEW PLEASE)**

***nag* :)  
**


	8. Lust

**It's FINALLY DONE!**

**I am very very sorry for keeping you all waiting, and thank you VERY much to absolutely everyone that reviewed :)**

**I will briefly explain why this is so late after this, but for now, on with the show!**

* * *

**Lust**

"So."

Jack took a deep breath. "So." He couldn't bear to look up. He still couldn't look the Doctor in the eye, not after what happened. There was an awkward silence. The Tardis panel was still, since they had already landed. But neither man felt like moving, neither felt like opening the doors to the new world that awaited them.

They'd managed to survive the previous day, after leaving the science station. They'd gone on to another planet, battled a few bad guys and righted a few wrongs. They hadn't spoken much. They'd put what had come to light behind them, pretended it never happened. Doctor's orders.

But with a fresh new day came a fresh perspective. And the Doctor was willing to accept that Jack was in love, in the same way he'd managed to accept that what he felt towards Jack consisted mostly of some sort of… unbridled lust. And he wasn't ever going to tell Jack that. Well, he didn't _plan_ to. But since when did his plans ever go… according to plan?

"Right!" the Doctor yelled, jerking out of his reverie, pelting to the door, coat in hand.

"Left?" Jack said, smiling. The word had no relevance; it was just the first thing that came to mind.

"Right," the Doctor said, grinning back. It seemed that Jack had said the 'right' thing. Their eyes had met. Jack felt like hot sticky treacle was poured into him. He shivered with a small contentment, feeling his heart warm. There was a momentary pause in which the Doctor stopped his bouncing, and actually _looked_ at Jack. If Jack had been writing poetry at the time, he would have said that the Doctor _saw into his soul_.

With a jerk of his head, the Doctor motioned Jack to join him, the moment gone. Jack leapt from the metal grating of the floor, snatching his coat up and following the Doctor out of the doors –

…Into a museum. Well, it was probably a museum. Or an art gallery. Or something that generally has a similarly dusty smell. The domed ceiling was almost thirty metres above where they stood, plaster swirls in various neutral/magnolia colours embellishing the edges. The room was deserted, seeing as there were no obvious entrances or exits. Massive portraits of teahouse-green dogs in majestic positions lined every wall. Jack took a step on the marble floor, and it took a few seconds before he heard the echo, ostensibly louder than the original sound. The blue box looked rather out of place, being the most colourful thing in the gigantic room. It occurred to Jack that if the ceiling collapsed, it would _really_ hurt.

"Where are we?"

"Steinlager's Third Monumental Reversal Squad."

"In English?"

"That _is_ English. The Tardis has translator circuits, dummy."

Jack sighed, shaking his head. "I mean, what does that _mean_?" He ignored the echoes, which were really rather distracting.

"It means: Reversal Squad, the Third one, made in Monument to Steinlager."

"Whatever. Is it a museum?" Jack queried, hoping for a simpler answer.

"It's a Reversal Squad."

"Doctor, give me a clear answer. What the hell is a reversal squad?"

"_Reversal Squad_. Capital Letters."

"How can you tell if someone pronounces capital letters?" Jack asked, a frown spreading over his face.

"Read a book by…" he paused, pondering. "Um. I forget. Great guy. Went a bit over the top with the beard, but hey – really great guy." Jack closed his eyes, frustrated. It was like talking to a brick wall… that talked back.

"Doctor," Jack said, slowly. "What. Is. A. Reversal. Squad?"

"Aa-aah, see, now – you're using too many capitals. You should cut back; you can get addicted, you know."

Jack felt like slapping him. "Doc-tor. What is a Reversal Squad and please answer the question this time because if you don't I'm going to slap you and it will hurt and I will probably regre–"

"You worked for a Time Agency and you don't know what a Reversal Squad is?" the Doctor asked, flabbergasted. The question had only just seemed to register, and now he had an expression on his face that said '_I can't believe how stupid you are_'.

Jack responded with an expression that said '…_?_'.

"Gosh Jack, you should read up on your history. Invented in the year two-thousand-and-ninety-five-fifty, a Reversal Squad is an intellectual and invigorating experience that the whole family can enjoy. Bring your friends along for a good time."

"Uh…?"

"Oh that was me, quoting the guidebook."

"Right."

"Left," the Doctor said, winking.

"You don't know, do you?" Jack asked, stating the obvious. He smirked.

"Not a dickey-bird," the Doctor said, smirking back. The Doctor's extensive knowledge all boiled down to a particularly distorted in-joke, in the end.

There was a moment of silence, in which both of them stood there, smiling to themselves. There obviously wasn't much to do here, seeing as they were in a big room with no doors. Good thing they had a Tardis, or else they'd never get out. The silence was fast turning from Companionable Silence to Awkward Silence. Jack had a thing about Awkward Silences. He always had to stand there and shuffle. So he did. The Doctor looked up at him.

"Wanna sit down?"

"On the floor?" He couldn't see any seats – so therefore, logical place to sit would be the floor.

"I have a sofa. Wanna get it? It's not too heavy."

"But… _why_? Why not leave and go somewhere with sofas already there?"

"Cos here's good, isn't it? It's warm and dry, perfect place for a sofa. Anyway, I need a sofa clearout. We could leave it here for the next people that come along. They'd want a sofa."

"Doctor, you think of the most… _utterly surreal_ things…" He paused. "Sure, let's get your sofa."

* * *

The Doctor sat on the red velvet sofa, beside Jack. It was only a little sofa, so there was _just_ enough room for the two of them. It was either designed for two very small people, or one very large person. Seeing as they were neither, they were rather crowded. The Doctor stood up to take his coat off, to ease the bulk. Jack followed suit, dumping their coats together in a pile. They sat back down, more comfortable now. Cue the Awkward Silence.

Jack sighed. That little sofa antic had provided them with precisely thirteen minutes of Awkward-less-ness. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together, elbows on his knees. He scuffled his shoe, squeaking it on the floor. He cleared his throat. He stayed silent for a few seconds, listening to the Doctor breathe.

"Jack," the Doctor said. It didn't sound like the start of a query. It sounded like a statement. Jack wasn't sure if he was meant to say anything. So Jack said nothing. He leaned back in the chair, turning to face the Doctor. Their legs were touching, just about.

"Jack, if I was a chocolate, what would I be?"

Jack blanked.

"All right then – if _you_ were a chocolate, what would _you_ be?"

Jack blinked.

"I bet you'd be some kind of white chocolate, with something gooey and sticky inside. Really sweet. With almonds on top. Little grated almonds. Perhaps some coconut. No, no – coconut all the way through. With something white and gooey, sticky. Warmed up, so it's hot."

At a loss of anything else to say, Jack said, "Why?"

"Can't you relate the 'hot, white and gooey' to something else?"

"…Are you being racist? 'Hot, white and gooey'? …and 'sticky'? What's white and gooey that I – …_Oh_."

"Now, see – the coconut – coconuts are technically nuts, but they're like fruit, so would that make you _fruit_ or _nut_? But they don't put coconut into Fruit and Nut chocolate – at least, not until the 27th century. I have no idea why they didn't do it sooner, coconut is really good. Then again, they _never _put bananas into Fruit and Nut. Wow, that's insane. Who would have missed that one?"

"Doctor…?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"Why do you like fruit so much?"

The Doctor sighed, preparing for a long explanation. "In every great chocolate, there's – well, there _should be_ – the fruit, and there's the nuts. I'm just trying to relate each of us to something we could both understand," he said, gesturing with his hands.

It struck Jack that Fruit and Nut chocolate really suited the Doctor's personality. Complete nutter.

The Doctor continued, "Now, _you_ think about sex a lot, am I right?"

"What – uh, yeah sure, whatever – but what –"

"So that makes you the nuts. Or the… cream. Or something along those lines. And so, if we're companions, we're together, we are a combination of Nuts – that's you – and then you have to have the Fruit. That's _me_. And I'm the Fruit cos if you're the nuts, the balls, the testicles, the little hangy-sacks of… oh, you get it – then that makes me the banana. I'm sure your mind can figure that one out. –Oh, all right then, I'm a penis. I'm the _practical_ part. Bananas are penises. And bananas are good.

"And _oh_ – have you heard that saying that goes 'Time flies like an arrow, but fruit flies like bananas'?" I am _both_ the 'time fly' and the 'fruit fly', cos I like both – Time Lord, plus the bananas… Do you get what I'm saying?"

"You're using a terrible chocolate-fruit-slash-phrase metaphor to talk about the male genitalia."

"I'm gay, Jack."

Jack blanked again. How could he _possibly_ have gotten to _that_ from _that_? The two things were completely unrelated! His eye twitched, utterly perplexed. "G–uh…"

The Doctor said nothing, but his stomach twist inside him. Was he even right about that? He couldn't say he was _wrong_. He was… _left_. For want of a better word. He was undecided. Perhaps. In a resolved, decisive way.

"O-okay then," Jack said, heaving a shallow sigh. He looked the Doctor in the eye, and smiled. "Cool."

"Umm…" the Doctor said, his voice wavering a little. "Jack – I – what the voice said, the other day..."

Jack's heart went _THUD_. He was hoping that subject would never be brought up, ever again. Ugh. Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere. Except for a few times.

"Yeah, what about it?" Jack asked, his voice soft.

"What the thing said… about me –" he paused, changing his mind; "…actually, never mind. It doesn't matter."

Jack shook his head. Okay, wishful thinking just _died_. After all that, he _wanted_ to talk about it. What did the Doctor want to say?

"Doctor? What were you going to say?"

"Doesn't matter, Jack."

"'Course it does! Go on, tell me," he urged, placing his hand affectionately on the Doctor's knee. After a second, the Doctor placed his hand atop Jack's. He slid his fingers between Jack's, rubbing gently, slowly. Jack's eyes lingered on their hands for a moment, and then cast themselves back to the Doctor's face. His eyes were gazed back steadily, but his expression vaguely solemn.

Swallowing, the Doctor said, in barely a whisper, "I want you."

Jack let his eyes explore the Doctor's – a beautiful brown, deep, filled with so much emotion. He really meant what he said.

Jack twisted his hand around; let it close around the Doctor's. He felt a thumb rubbing his palm – it felt nice; tiny but sensual. Sliding his fingertips over the Doctor's loose fist, he caressed his wrist, his forearm, on his way to the Doctor's shoulder. Right now was one of the moments in which he really despised clothing. Slipping his hand around the Doctor's warm neck, he leaned in to kiss him. He left a space between their lips, letting the Doctor complete the task.

The Doctor didn't even hesitate. He knew he wanted this. He knew they both did. Their lips met, tingling electricity fizzing around their touch. The Doctor pressed in, turning his head to the side. He could feel Jack's tongue nudging gently at his lip, stroking it. He let it in, welcomed it tenderly with his own. Warm, fuzzy feelings overloaded the Doctor's mind, urging him on. He reached up and cupped Jack's neck in his palm, pulling himself closer; Jack leant back on the armrest, letting the Doctor take control of the kiss.

The Doctor gasped as Jack's hand ran down his body, breaking the kiss for a moment to rock forward on top of him. They were laid down; Jack's back comfortably arched over the armrest of the sofa. The Doctor wriggled to kneel over Jack, straddling him. Jack's knees were bent at the other end of the sofa; there wasn't much room, but it was cosy. The Doctor rocked forward again, loving the feel of Jack's body rubbing against his. Jack had an air of masculinity; strong, dominant – and yet he let the Doctor have the upper hand, which, of course, he used to his advantage.

He let his hands go where he wanted; he could touch whatever he wanted. And Jack loved it – well, he was certainly responsive. Reaching between their apprehensively tense legs, the Doctor flicked his fingers over Jack's crotch. Jack trembled beneath the Doctor, pressing up gently. Their lips met again, with a little more force this time, a little more movement in their kiss. Every motion of their lips gave out a short sound from each of them – a groan, a sigh; or simply the sound of their lips crushing together, breaking apart.

Their kisses built to a crescendo within a matter of seconds – kissing was becoming a small feat, compared to what they could have, right there on the little sofa. Amidst quiet gasps of excitement (and slight lack of breath), the Doctor undid Jack's top button. Then he pulled away, just to see how Jack would react. That might have taken it too far. How far would Jack want to go?

Jack hardly even noticed. He pulled the Doctor back to his lips, mildly unappreciative of the pause. He bit down on the Doctor's bottom lip, sucking gently, before rolling straight back into the pulsating kiss that the Doctor couldn't help but enjoy. Eyes closed, the Doctor leant his forehead against Jack's. He held his mouth open above Jack's glossy wet lips, letting him lick, teasing with his tongue. Every sensual touch sent a pulse throbbing through his body, wanting nothing more than to be moulded to Jack's.

With a heartfelt groan, the Doctor pulled away from the kiss, fumbling with his fingers to undo Jack's buttons. Of all the times he'd ever had to do delicate work with his fingers, did _now_ have to be a time when they didn't work? Gasping, desperate for the feel of skin against his, he gave up on Jack's shirt, deciding to work on his own jacket, with considerably bigger buttons. Now he thought about it, why _buttons_? What was wrong with _zips_?

Jack undid his own shirt with ease, not even struggling with his tight trouser fastenings. The Doctor, however, could not unbutton his own, having already (rather miraculously) undone his own shirt and tie, dropping them to the ground. Jack sat up to help, first wriggling out from under the Doctor to slip his trousers off. The Doctor got up off the sofa, almost collapsing under his own weight. His legs were wobbly, his whole body shaking. It wasn't used to this kind of thing. Jumping around, saving planets, people and other assorted civilisations, sure – but sex? Nuh-uh. Total shut-down of all motor skills.

Jack cradled the Doctor's body in his arms, hands around his waist. Ever so slightly, he pressed his hips into the Doctor's – the Doctor moaned, mouth open, eyes closed. If this was what being with Jack was like, no wonder people were practically queuing up.

Slipping a hand into the Doctor's trousers, Jack massaged the Doctor, smiling a little at the look in the Doctor's eyes. His pupils were so dilated that his irises had practically disappeared. He looked straight at Jack; their features all level with each other. Their lips were just brushing gently, hot breath on Jack's lips every time the Doctor let out a shaky breath. Jack was sure that if he squeezed… just a little… the Doctor would _scream_.

He squeezed.

"_Aaa_ohh, _Jack_…" the Doctor cried, his eyes closing, eyebrows raised. His hands skated around at Jack's back, a thin layer of perspiration over his palms. Jack smiled, kissing him. The Doctor kissed back, taking Jack's hand in his own, pushing it deeper into his trousers. Jack caressed the Doctor through the thin material of his underwear, feeling him twitching in his hand.

"Jack," the Doctor whispered, skimming a fingertip over Jack's nipple, making him groan a little. The Doctor _loved_ that sound, he realised. Not only the sound that Jack made, but just the sound of Jack's name. It seemed to roll off the tongue, no matter how sharp it was to say. It could be said numerous times in quick succession, and not have the speaker stumble on their words. The Doctor loved how his mouth formed the word in his mouth before he even said it. The more he thought about it, the more he loved it.

He gasped as Jack squeezed again, his mouth refusing to shut afterwards. It hung open, gasping for air but unable to take any in. He pressed his open lips to Jack's smooth shoulder, his tongue licking within its tooth-barred enclosure. He pressed his teeth lightly into Jack's flesh, reacting suddenly to a jerk of the hand from Jack. The Doctor was dying for Jack to touch him properly; he felt like the cloth of his underwear was taunting him for no reason.

He scooped Jack's fingers from out of his trousers, forcefully shoving them back down, this time into his underwear. The Doctor gasped again, his eyebrows practically jumping off his face. His mind was in such a state of blissful shock, he didn't notice when his trousers dropped to the floor of their own accord, or when Jack slipped his underwear off too, leaving him standing naked in the middle of the hall, Jack's own unclothed body a few short inches from his own. All the Doctor could hear now was his own laboured breathing; all he could see was the sharp image of Jack Harkness, his hand encasing and rubbing at the Doctor's stiffened 'fruit'. The Doctor swallowed, preparing himself for whatever it was he knew his body would do. His mind would have practically no control over it, it would just follow suit. His senses were taking over; thought now had no part to play.

_Here goes._

The Doctor shoved Jack back into the sofa, collapsing on top of him; pounding his skinny hips into Jack like a baker might pound dough. There was no penetration – not yet. But the Doctor succeeded in making Jack moan again. He seemed generally quieter than the Doctor had previously imagined; the Doctor thought he might just reveal some roaring, groaning animal.

And unexpectedly, just as fast as the Doctor had pounced, Jack flipped the Doctor over. He pounded him back, the Doctor's legs too weak and wobbly to clutch onto Jack's back. He let himself be pummelled like a punching bag, incredible, rough sensations shooting through him like nothing he'd ever felt before. But, as always, no matter how great this was, they needed _more_. He wanted Jack to touch him inside _as well as_ outside. A tongue in his mouth didn't go nearly far enough.

"Jah. Ah. Ack," the Doctor murmured, his voice thrown from his mouth and broken by the restless pounding. Nothing more was needed to make Jack understand; _now_ was definitely a good time to do this properly – desperation was flooding Jack's mind like a pressure cooker with the lid sealed badly – as it were.

The Doctor moaned, still feeling Jack brushing his extremely stiffened penis. He let a hand tangle though Jack's hair as they caught their breath – and felt the cold air rush to his skin as Jack got up and left. The Doctor closed his eyes. He listened as Jack rummaged through his coat pockets, dropping various items onto the floor – one such making a rather repulsive _splutt_ noise. A short sigh of triumph as Jack found what he was looking for, the warmth of Jack's body returning as he knelt above him once again. The Doctor kept his eyes closed, determined to remember this moment as a feeling rather than a thought. He had to let the passion of the moment pick up again before he could enjoy it. He smiled, feeling Jack's warm hands running over his slender thighs, deep between his legs, touching him gently. Cool, silky gel slid rather uncomfortably over his anus, a feeling that the Doctor would never be keen to replicate. The Doctor let Jack raise his legs above his body, feeling Jack lean on the backs of his thighs, feeling a large but pleasurably hot object filling his rectum – _god_, that was weird. The Doctor's mouth opened again, and again refused to shut. As Jack's whole body jerked back and forth once, in an experimental thrust, the Doctor's mouth was met by Jack's, their tongues touching timidly.

Again, harder this time, Jack pushed himself into the Doctor, ramming their flesh together; suddenly fast, hot – and rather squelchy, the Doctor thought – before remembering his vow not to think, only feel.

He felt Jack inside him, outside him, touching him _everywhere_. His mouth was a frantic war of tongues, his lower end being rammed into like a robot that walked into a wall, whose circuitry didn't include the instruction to turn around.

Hands roamed over the Doctor's torso, over his legs; a thin layer of sweat covered every part of him, heat encircling him like a bubble. Every wisp of scent his nose caught was so strong; he could smell pheromones falling away from Jack like electricity bouncing around in a storm. He could smell the lubricant, an unnatural smell, but calming – a kind of barrier to pain, protection of a sort.

The Doctor could smell semen, too. It smelt warm, a scent he wasn't all that familiar with, but he was positive he would get used to it. This whole… experience… it was new, yes, but it was like an old invisible friend had come back and hugged him – a real hug his time, not an invisible one, like he might have remembered.

The Doctor hugged Jack, opening his eyes for the first time. Jack's eyes were open too. His lips trembled above the Doctor as they broke their kiss. Jack pushed into the Doctor again, a hand braced against the arm rest of the sofa. They were both comfortable with the rhythm now, and the Doctor tried his best to relax. Jack's breath rushed past him with every thrust, swirling into the Doctor's open mouth. The Doctor groaned quietly as Jack took his penis in his hand, stroking it slowly with an open palm. The Doctor closed his eyes again, deciding he enjoyed it more that way.

He bit his lip in an effort not to whimper, the corners of his lips twitching into a small smile. His mouth automatically dropped open again as he sighed, his hand cocooned around the back of Jack's neck. Jack moaned, leaning his head into the Doctor's neck. The Doctor could feel sweat on Jack's face, a little sticky against his skin; he was so _hot_, their touch almost scalding the Doctor.

Angling himself upwards, Jack thrusted once more. The Doctor grunted, the sound followed by a gasp, then a sigh. His throat seemed to be jumping, unsure if it was breathing in or out. The Doctor shivered as Jack built up a rhythm again, harder and faster.

Jack let out a short breath with every thrust, a groan every so often. This was the best sex he'd ever had, and it had rendered him speechless. There was nothing he wanted more than to tell the Doctor how he was feeling – screaming would probably do it – but every time he tried to use his vocal chords, they failed him. All he found it possible to do was to push into the man before him, again and again and again. He wasn't even doing it consciously any more. It was automatic; his body was just doing what would feel good – for both of them.

The Doctor looked like he was having the time of his life; a healthy flush filled his cheeks, his hands were holding onto whatever part of Jack's body he could find. Jack could feel his heat at his neck, fingers twisting gently through his hair. The Doctor's legs were at his back, hugging him loosely. Jack pushed harder, needing more contact. His mind was wrapped up in the Doctor's body, the curve of every bone that protruded from his skinny frame, the way his hair flopped every time Jack thrusted, the expression of deep, happy thought on his face. What was he thinking about? Jack wondered.

The Doctor couldn't help it – he was thinking. He didn't _want_ to think, but it just _happened_. What he was thinking was this: …_Do I love Jack?_

…_Do I?_

* * *

Jack pulled out of the Doctor seconds before he came – white, hot, sticky liquid spurted from him, covering the Doctor's torso to his shoulders. The Doctor opened his eyes to look at Jack, who pulled himself forward to kiss the Doctor. Their eyes met, for the first time since they'd started. The Doctor blinked, intentionally burning the image onto his retinas, and into his memories.

He pulled Jack down into the kiss, his tongue rolling over Jack's teeth, flicking at Jack's cheeks. Jack slid his hand back to the Doctor's penis, still hard, still desperate for release. Jack dragged a finger over it, feeling the Doctor shiver in his arms. The Doctor placed his palm on Jack's hip, rolling his head back to raise his own hips into Jack's. They rubbed gently, Jack feeling every inch of the Doctor twitching, dripping slightly, hot liquid drooling down Jack's body.

The Doctor gasped suddenly, hips kicking themselves upwards into Jack, creamy white come mingling with Jack's on his chest. The Doctor's voice crackled into life, and he groaned. Then he shuddered, and then he opened his eyes again.

He blinked slowly, and smiled. Jack smiled back, his hands trembling. They both relaxed atop each other, saying nothing. The Doctor craned his neck downwards and planted a sweet kiss on Jack's hot forehead. Jack nudged the Doctor's neck with his nose, smiling.

His smile would take a lot to remove, he decided. He'd just gotten what he's waited centuries to get, and he loved it even more than he thought he would. Even if the Doctor suddenly decided to reject him (which he doubted – not after _that_), the memory of minutes past would always be one of the best he had.

* * *

_Do I_?

The Doctor still pondered this question. He really didn't know. He'd known love, but this was different. This thing he'd just done with Jack, he'd never had this with anyone. It felt amazing – there was a mental connection there too, not just physical. Although… the physical was good enough on its own. It was better than amazing. For the first time in a very long time, the Doctor couldn't think of a word to describe how he felt.

* * *

Jack sighed, blissful and content. His legs were still crumpled at one end of the sofa, but he hadn't even realised. He cradled the Doctor's body, a finger stroking absent-mindedly at the Doctor's nipple. He had to say it, he knew it. If it wasn't now, he didn't know when his next opportunity would be. He could end up waiting another century, maybe longer. And the whole time he would regret not saying it now. He had to tell him.

"I love you, Doctor."

* * *

The Doctor heard him. He understood him. He believed him.

Should he reply?

And if so, what should he say?

Did he love him?

Did he?

_Do I?_

_

* * *

_

**Okay - one "chapter" left - an epilogue, to be exact - and that SHOULD be up soon, but if it's not, it's because of one or more of these reasons:**

**1: For many long and complicated reasons, I can only write on Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays. And for only twenty minutes, on average, on each of those days.**

**2: I can't write if I'm sick.**

**2.5: If I'm sick - but not TOO sick, however - I CAN write. So you lot just better hope I get Relatively Sick more often.**

**3: Writers block. It happens to the best of us. ;)  
**

**4: Oh, and also - I was off on holiday. Which sucks. My advice -don't do it.  
**

**Again, thank you people. Thank you very, very much. And bear with me. I love you all :) [in the non-creepy way...]  
**


	9. Epilogue

**Right! The last part of this epic is FINALLY here - and here it is!**

**Enjoy! :)  
**

* * *

**Epilogue**

"I love you, Doctor."

There was a pause. Jack could practically _hear_ the Doctor thinking.

"…Yes."

There was another silence, in which Jack thought; was this one of those things that happens in movies and such? Where one person says one thing and the other assumes they proposed marriage – or something? Because "yes" wasn't really an answer. Well – it wasn't really _anything_. What did the Doctor mean by it?

There was silence, in which both men lay in each other's arms, thinking. The Doctor let out a shaky breath, nervously examining the highly detailed ceiling. Now it was quiet, he could hear wind howling outside, even through the thick walls. An empty metal container rattled along the ground, and a splatter of rain hit the side of the building.

So… did the Doctor mean "yes" in the sense of "yes, I understand and accept that you love me", or … "yes, and I love you too"? Because Jack was starting to fret that perhaps the Doctor only meant the former. He bit his lip, holding the Doctor close. They were still naked, warm in each other's arms. Slowly drying semen remained on the Doctor's chest as it rose and fell with each slowing, shaky breath.

Jack, against his wishes, was starting to feel nervous. Nervous – and awkward. And it was difficult to shuffle one's feet awkwardly when one was in the arms of another. Of course, it wouldn't be so bad if the one whose arms Jack was in were the arms of someone who loved him. Someone who loved him _back_. Because Jack was beyond sure now; he was in love with the Doctor. But… it appeared that the Doctor didn't feel the same way.

Jack got up in one swift movement, the chill of empty, dusty air meeting him as he vacated the cramped sofa. He shivered, feeling odd after their rather pithy encounter. It had been a _nice_ kind of odd – until about thirty seconds ago. He'd opened his heart, and all he'd gotten was… confirmation.

"Jack?" the Doctor asked after him, sitting up, wiping come away with his palm. Jack had left him with a cold sort of manner – as if he was no longer welcome.

Jack looked back, pulling on his breeches. The Doctor looked at him confusedly, standing up. He flicked his hand, come dribbling off it, flying to the floor. "Did I – did I say something? Something wrong, I mean – I-I know I said _something_, but … do you – didn't you – Jack?" the Doctor said, babbling. He ended with a quiet gasp, taking a well-needed breath, swallowing. He felt a strange profusion of emotions – one of which suddenly surfaced, compelling the Doctor to preserve his modesty – he grabbed the first thing he found on the floor, which happened to be Jack's greatcoat. He held it to his body, blushing and flustered.

"I said I loved you," Jack muttered, his eyes drifting from the floor to the Doctor, curious as to his response.

The Doctor looked a little bewildered – and then, slowly, he nodded. He pulled the coat up to his chin, brushing it against his lips.

Jack rubbed the back of his head. "And – and you said "yes"."

The Doctor nodded again, opening and closing his lips over the coat neckband. It smelt of Jack, and the coarse material made his lips tickle.

Jack hated to ask but – "W-what did you mean?"

The Doctor paused in his lip-rubbing, blinking slowly. Then he dropped the coat to his shoulders with a gasp, clutching it to his chest. "Oh, Jack… I meant –" He broke off to giggle. He looked down at the floor, biting down on his lip. "I meant… Oh, forget it, Jack. Get over here," the Doctor demanded, beckoning with curled fingertips.

Jack slowly shook his head, not giving in that easily. He wasn't doing this unless he knew it was going somewhere. Where _was_ it going? At the moment – nowhere.

"Jack, come on," the Doctor called to him, a wobble in his voice now. He'd realised Jack wasn't coming until he got what he wanted.

"Do you love me, Doctor?" Jack asked, deadly serious. He had never meant to take such a tone, but he _needed _to know.

"What does it matter Jack? We can still have fun," the Doctor replied, a cheeky smile on his face. He nodded his head sideways to the little sofa, inviting Jack for a few more games.

Jack shook his head again. He didn't want games this time. "Doctor. Do you love me?" he asked again.

This was the last time he would ask. If the Doctor said no… he was leaving. There was no way their friendship could return to how it was before, not after this. And Jack couldn't hold up a new relationship as lovers if the love was one-sided. This was it.

The Doctor took one look at Jack's face, and realised he had to lie. It was his last resort, and he'd hoped it would never have come to this. He'd been preparing for his response for too long – and now Plan B was in effect.

"Yes. I love you, Jack." Even the Doctor himself was surprised with how legitimate it sounded.

Jack's face broke into a smile, trying and failing to think of another point in time in which he'd been happier. Never, in all his life. He was staying!

He bounded over to the Doctor, crushing their lips together in the most erotic and passionate kiss he'd ever had the pleasure to take part in. The Doctor moaned, smiling at Jack's enthusiasm. Oh yes, they could be happy together.

And yet, the Doctor felt wretched. He'd lied to his best friend, his lover – whatever he was. It had been a half-truth, the Doctor _did_ love Jack – but as a friend. And he wanted him, he wanted his body, he wanted sex. And if this was the only way to keep him, then so be it.

He just hoped, in time, he would come to love Jack as much as Jack loved him.

Thank god they had all the time in the universe.

* * *

Far away, a disembodied voice chuckled happily.

"_Doctor, you're a fool. You'll realise day. One day soon._"

A disembodied head in a disembodied jar vaporised into view. A rusty colour, human height, and of the same width. Tentacles floated in the cramped space around the face, a massive pair of lips breaking into an elderly but utterly charming smile.

Only the face knew, and only he would _ever_ know. He was the only one who the Doctor ever told – the Doctor really _was_ in love with Jack Harkness. He just hadn't realised yet.

The face knew this. And, like the face said, one day soon, the Doctor would too.

* * *

**Sorry for the odd and bittersweet ending, but there you have it.**

**Just in case it wasn't as plain as British cooking - the disembodied voice is the Face of Boe, and he makes his little appearance down the bottom there. I could say it was my plan all along, but ... nah, I'll leave it with that. It was my plan all along. ;)**

**So yes, that's one story done. I have far too many Work-In-Progresses, and am constantly distracted by "Caramelldansen" on repeat. :P**

**Love and hugs to all you awesome people. Remember - reviews are my motivation to write! (I know that's stupid, but I can't help it...) XP  
**


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